Power of the Press
by honu59
Summary: A dangerous mob boss has ordered a hit on Che Fong. Can McGarrett and his team protect the scientist and stop the gunman before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

_**A.N. - **____Hawaii Five-O and its characters belong to CBS. No copyright infringement is intended._

_The first scene of this story was inspired by an image created by "Tanith2011", which is used as the cover image. Thanks also to "Tanith2011" for beta reading this. I am posting the first chapter of this story for the October Case File – Che Fong Challenge from the Coconut Wireless forum. I hope to update at regular intervals, RL permitting._

**Power of the Press**

**Chapter 1**

"That's him, boys," said a gravelly, sinister voice. The large man in the expensive suit carefully studied the color photograph from a recent news article in the _Honolulu Advertiser_, using a magnifying glass to peer closely at the figure in the white lab coat. "Che Fong, head forensic scientist at the HPD crime lab. I want you to get rid of him," the man ordered in a low, menacing tone before taking another sip of his coffee.

"Waste a scientist?" The small hapa-haole flunky couldn't believe what he had heard. "Why don't we go after McGarrett? He's the real problem."

The mob boss released an evil laugh. "That's what most people think. But the king of Five-O wouldn't get half the convictions without this Chink scientist."

"Won't they just hire someone else?"

"They will. But this Fong fella – he's brilliant, out of the ordinary, says so right here. No one else will come close to his expertise. With him out of the way, we'll take over and this rock will be ours!"

"Okay, boss, whatever you say."

"Make it soon. I want this taken care of and no loose ends! Got it?"

o-o-o

Parked directly across the street from HPD headquarters, Lenny and Nick slumped down low in the front of an old Ford sedan so as not to be seen. The bench seat was getting harder by the minute as they continued to scan the entrance of the crime lab adjacent to the HPD building.

"These guys sure work long hours," Nick complained, lighting up his fifth cigarette. "Think he's really in there or are we just wasting our time?"

"Cool your jets, will ya? It's only been a couple of hours," Lenny scolded as he ran a sweaty hand over the razor stubble on his face. Then he wiped his hand on the tail of his faded, dirty aloha shirt before he spotted someone exiting the building. "Hey, there he is!" Lenny said in a hushed voice as he pointed out the window.

Nick sat up straight and tossed his cigarette out the open window. Then he grabbed his revolver and aimed it at the small man in the green business suit coming out of the building. "I see him!" Nick said excitedly.

"Not here, you idiot!" Lenny yelled as he jerked the pistol away from his partner. "We'd be surrounded by cops in two seconds!"

"What are we supposed to do then, Einstein?" Nick was clearly annoyed.

"We follow him," Lenny answered as he turned the key in the ignition. "You can plug him the next place he stops."

o-o-o

Briefcase in hand and a file folder under his arm, Che Fong made his way to his green VW Fastback in the parking lot. Before he reached the car, he heard a friendly voice call out behind him.

"Ready for the weekend, Che?" A uniformed Hawaiian officer with silver hair and wire rimmed glasses greeted the scientist with a friendly smile. "It's been a long day!"

"Hi Duke," Che replied, pulling the file folder from beneath his arm. "Just need to deliver this file to Doc then I can start my weekend. You?"

"I'm on a dinner break then I'll be on the evening shift," the HPD sergeant explained. "I'm off on Sunday. Better get out of here while you can!"

Che smiled at the advice that was meant as a joke. He admired these men who dedicated their lives to serve and protect the public and he didn't know anyone who worked harder than HPD and Five-O. He actually felt honored to work with such men. "Enjoy your dinner, Duke," Che called out to the departing officer. He opened the car door and tossed his briefcase onto the passenger side seat then tucked the file folder in between the case and the seat back. Once he had settled into the driver's seat, Che started the car and headed for the county morgue.

When he drove out of the parking lot onto South Beretania Street, an old Ford sedan pulled away from the curb and followed at a discrete distance.

o-o-o

Che parked his VW in a vacant parking space in front of the morgue, grabbed the folder from the seat next to him and got out of the car. Then he locked the door since he was leaving his briefcase in the car for the short errand.

_Sometimes the most ordinary thing can end up saving one's life. _At the same instant that a trigger was pulled releasing a bullet aimed directly at Che's heart, the weary scientist dropped his car keys and bent down to pick them up. The shot that was meant to kill instead grazed the small man high in the right shoulder, but the force was powerful enough to knock him off his feet. His head collided with the cement curb and his world went dark.

o-o-o

"I got him!" Nick yelled excitedly, almost dropping his cigarette as he pointed out the car window at the unmoving prone figure across the street with a growing dark stain on his jacket.

"Keep it down, will ya? We gottta get outta here wiki wiki without attracting attention," Lenny whispered nervously, starting up the car. "You sure he's dead?"

Nick took one last puff and flicked the smoldering butt out the window. "He ain't moving. He's dead. Let's go!"

o-o-o

Startled by the sudden unexpected report of a gun, Doc Bergman hurried out the front door of the morgue followed closely by his young assistant. The ME was shocked when he recognized the crumbled figure in the parking lot.

"Good Lord, Che!" The exclamation escaped Bergman's lips before he could even think. "Jeff, go back inside, call Five-O and then bring my bag. Hurry!"

As Doc rushed over to the downed man, an old Ford sedan sped by. Fortunately, the ME had the presence of mind to glace up and note the license plate before he knelt down beside the fallen scientist and quickly checked for a pulse. At Bergman's touch, Che stirred, releasing a low moan. He attempted to sit up, but Doc pressed a hand to the smaller man's chest, keeping him in place.

"Easy, Che, just lie still for a minute," Bergman advised as he carefully opened the man's jacket, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing the wound.

"Doc? What happened?" the still dazed scientist managed to ask. But the physician was engrossed in his assessment of the damage and didn't seem to hear him.

"Superficial, thank God," Bergman mumbled in relief, pulling out a handkerchief and applying it to the bleeding wound. Che bit back a cry of pain at the sudden pressure on his damaged flesh. "Sorry," Doc apologized before he turned his attention to the ugly swollen knot rising from beneath the dark hair on the man's scalp.

"Doc?" Che repeated.

"You've been shot, Che, but it's high up in your shoulder; looks like it's just a crease. And you hit your head on the curb. I'm more concerned about that. We'll need some x-rays of your skull, just to be sure there's no serious damage."

"I'm okay," Che insisted, "I was only out for a minute."

At the sound of sneakers swiftly pounding the sidewalk, both men glanced up to see Bergman's assistant running toward them, black bag in hand, the tails of his white lab coat flapping behind him. The young man handed the bag to his superior. "Five-O is on the way, doctor," he reported as he knelt beside the coroner to offer assistance.

"Thanks, Jeff," Bergman replied as he pulled a pressure bandage from the bag. He removed his handkerchief and applied the bandage to Che's bleeding shoulder. Che gasped when air hit the open wound then swallowed hard as Doc applied pressure. After several minutes, the bleeding slowed. "Here, Jeff, hold this." Doc moved his hand to the side so his assistant could take over holding the bandage in place. Then he proceeded to further probe the tender goose egg on Che's head. During the course of the emergency first aid ministrations, a big black Ford Mercury pulled up to the curb squealing to a dead stop. Its two occupants flew out the door and onto the pavement before the car had even stopped rocking. Not far behind the Mercury was a blue and white HPD sedan.

"Doc, what the hell happened?" Steve McGarrett asked tersely as he, too, squatted beside the prone scientist. His attention still focused on his patient, Bergman pulled out his pen light and checked Che's pupil reactions. "Well?" McGarrett asked impatiently as Duke Lukela joined the group, shocked at the sight of the injured man he had just spoken to earlier that day. Bergman continued to work while he briefed the head of Five-O.

"There was a shot, Steve, we heard it inside. I ran out and found Che bleeding and unconscious." Bergman ran a hand over his face, still angry over what had just occurred in front of his workplace. "God, Steve, I thought he was dead at first. I did see a car fly out of here right after the shot. Got part of the plate number, too."

"Oh?" Steve raised an eyebrow. At least it was a start. He glanced up at his second-in-command, who had already pulled his notebook out of his breast pocket.

"Go ahead, Doc," Dan said, his pen positioned on the page.

"Victor, five, three; didn't get the last three digits, too fast, but it was a late model Ford sedan. Brown."

Williams swiftly jotted down the information and sprinted back to the Mercury to request information on the owner of the plate.

"Who would want to shoot me?" asked Che, looking up at the group of worried faces while still trying to process what had happened.

Duke responded first, "Tony Kahuku. Steve, word on the coconut wireless is that he ordered Che hit."

"Tony Kahuku ordered Che hit? Why wasn't I informed?" McGarrett's voice rose with anger. "We could have arranged for his protection!"

"This is new information, Steve," Duke continued calmly. "I just heard it on my dinner break from Charlie Takahashi, right before I got your call to come to the morgue."

"And what does Tony Kahuku have against Che?" Steve squatted down close to the trusted head of the crime lab and studied the man's face, which looked just as confused as McGarrett felt.

"He thinks that Che's work is the key to your high rate of convictions," Duke explained.

"Well, I can't argue too much with that," Steve replied, giving the injured scientist a sympathetic smile.

"I would say that I'm flattered, but this isn't the way I want to be rewarded for my work," Che commented wryly.

"Steve, we should get him to the hospital," Bergman broke in.

It took McGarrett a few seconds to respond, a clear sign that he was thinking several steps ahead. "Think you can treat him here, Doc?" Steve asked. "If it won't compromise his health, I mean. I'd like for Che to stay here for a while; lay low. It would be easier to protect him at the morgue than in a hospital."

Bergman frowned and considered the idea. "I suppose so, Steve," he replied somewhat reluctantly. "The shoulder wound isn't too serious; I can clean and stitch that here then Jeff and I can do the skull x-rays. We have the equipment." The coroner glanced at his assistant who gave him a confident nod. Then he addressed his patient. "Do you think you can stand?"

"I think so," Che replied in a tone that was less than convincing.

"Well, I still say he belongs in the hospital, but I see that I'm outnumbered," Doc grumbled as he rose to his feet. "All right, Steve, give me a hand and we'll get him inside. Go slow and be careful of that shoulder!"

The two men helped Che to his feet and after waiting a few moments for his dizziness to pass, they steadily guided him inside the morgue building, followed by Dan and Duke.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Inside the autopsy room, Bergman helped Che remove his jacket and shirt with minimal movement of his right arm. Jeff prepared a tray with the necessary instruments then covered the cold steel table with a blanket before the injured man lay down on the surface. The physician then positioned the overhead lamp to illuminate his patient's right shoulder before he set to work on the open wound while his assistant left the room to retrieve the portable x-ray machine. "Sorry this isn't more comfortable, Che, it was never meant for live patients," Doc commented as he injected medication around the wound to numb the area.

The forensic scientist had been in the morgue hundreds of times and it had never bothered him. But lying flat on the table in the middle of the cold blue tiled room with a bright light shining in his face was different. "This _is_ kind of creepy, Doc," Che remarked through grit teeth. In spite of the burning pain in his shoulder, the scientist couldn't resist voicing the obvious joke. "Try to remember that I'm still alive, okay?"

"That's not funny," Bergman deadpanned, still shaken by the image of his colleague and friend lying unconscious and bleeding in the parking lot.

o-o-o

Steve paced outside the autopsy room. While he was concerned for Che's well being, he was also preoccupied with what had happened and what to do next. He stopped suddenly in his tracks and eyed the two men waiting with him, then addressed the uniformed officer.

"Duke, call Chin; get him out here. I want the two of you to go over the entire parking lot and the area across the street; if as much as a speck of dust is out of place, I want to know about it! I also want that slug. According to Doc, the shot may have come from a car; it could be lodged in the side of the building or in a tree trunk. And see if there's any progress on that plate number."

"Right away, Steve," the HPD sergeant replied crisply on his way toward the door.

The dark haired detective resumed his pacing, thinking out loud at the same time. "If Tony Kahuku has really put out a contract, he's not going to give up while Che's still alive. We'll have to stop him before he tries again."

"According to Doc, that car cut out of here pretty quick, Steve," Danny offered. "And Doc said that Che was unconscious. It's possible that Kahuku's boys think they finished the job."

McGarrett stopped again, and considered his second's speculation. "You could be right, Danno. And that might buy us some time. But Kahuku's smart; even if his boys report that they've finished the job, old Tony will want proof."

"So what do we do?" Williams asked.

"I don't know yet," Steve admitted, "but we can't take any chances with Che. I want him in a safe house until we can sort this out."

"Okay Steve, but think he'll be well enough to stay on his own? With that head injury, Doc will probably want someone with him."

After a few more moments, McGarrett approached Danny, placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "He won't have to be alone; I want you to go pick up Che's wife. You'll have to tell her what happened, Danno." Steve knew how difficult that would be, but he also knew that his protégé would handle it as well as, if not better than he would himself.

"Sure, Steve," Danny replied.

"And have her pack some things for the two of them in an overnight bag," Steve added. "Bring her here first. We'll make the arrangements for the safe house and when Doc says that it's okay, we'll transport Che and Ling Li together."

Danny nodded and turned to leave.

"Thanks, Danno," Steve said sincerely as his second-in-command disappeared out the doorway.

o-o-o

Danny parked the black Mercury in the driveway of the Fong family's well-kept one story home. Located in a small hillside neighborhood, the modest house was surrounded by an immaculate lawn and neatly trimmed flowering plants that spoke of Che's love of gardening in his off duty hours. Five-O's second-in-command exited the car and followed the stone walk to the front door.

If there was some magic secret for a happy marriage, the Fongs certainly knew what it was. Married almost thirty years, Che and Ling Li were still very much in love and completely devoted to one another. _Maybe that's why Che's always smiling, _Danny mused. He knew he was going to have to do his best to break the news gently. He rang the doorbell.

After a few seconds the door opened to reveal a petite woman in her early fifties, of mixed Chinese and Hawaiian ancestry, with wavy chin length black hair that was generously streaked with white. She wiped her hands on her apron that covered casual slacks and a flowered blouse; the delicious aroma of a home cooked dinner wafted through the small house. "Hi Danny," Mrs. Fong warmly greeted the detective with a smile. "Where's Che?"

"Ling Li, let's go inside and talk," Danny suggested, not wanting to break the news in the doorway.

Ling Li saw the serious expression that Danny couldn't mask; his eyes told her that something was wrong. "Danny, where's Che?" she asked again, this time more emphatically, her voice rising in fear as the officer led her inside to the couch where they both sat down.

"Che's been hurt," Danny said in a straight forward manner, braced for the woman's reaction.

"A lab accident?" Ling Li asked, nervously wringing the hem of her apron.

Danny reached over and took her small hand in his before he replied. He knew it would be hard for her to hear the truth.

"No, Ling Li, Che was shot…"

Before Danny could continue, Mrs. Fong's eyes grew large; her mouth formed the word 'no' but produced no sound. She took a breath and tried to stay in control. The detective tightened his grip on her hand and quickly added, "…but Doc is taking good care of him and he's going to be fine." The woman relaxed a little. The detective's concerned blue eyes never left her face. "Are you okay?"

Ling Li swallowed the lump in her throat before she slowly nodded her head, still holding tightly to Danny's hand. "I'm okay. Why would anyone want to shoot Che? Danny, I don't understand."

"We don't know for sure yet, but we've already started the investigation," Danny said trying to keep his tone confident.

"Please, take me to him," Ling Li whispered.

"That's why I'm here," Danny explained. "We're going to take you and Che to a safe house; we want you both protected."

"A safe house? We have to leave our home?" Ling Li was brimming with questions in addition to her worry for her husband. "What's going on, Danny?"

"I'll explain on the way. Can you pack some things for the two of you in an overnight bag?"

"Sure, it will just take a few minutes. I can pack some dinner, too."

The detective watched as the woman rose from the couch and then purposefully walked into the bedroom and threw some things together in a small suitcase. She then parked the suitcase by the front door, moved to the kitchen and began transferring her dinner from the pots on the stove into plastic containers. Ling Li worked swiftly, packing the containers into a picnic basket; the work seemed to calm her nerves, Danny thought.

"All ready, let's go," Ling Li announced when she emerged from the kitchen with her picnic basket, sans apron.

"You should leave some lights on, make it look like someone is at home," Danny suggested. "We'll have HPD send a cruiser to patrol the neighborhood in case there's someone watching the house." Danny's last comment sent a shiver down Ling Li's spine and the detective noticed her unease. And it made him angry that these good people, his friends, were being targeted.

Once they had lit a couple of living room lamps, the pair left the house, locking the door behind them. Danny guided Mrs. Fong to the Mercury, helped her into the passenger's side then loaded her suitcase and basket into the trunk before he slid into the driver's seat. As he was about to turn the key in the ignition, Ling Li touched his arm to get his attention. He turned and looked into her soft brown eyes.

"Thanks, Danny," she simply said.

o-o-o

"I got him, I tell ya," Nick insisted, trying to convince the skeptical Kahuku. "I know when a dead guy is dead!" He nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he stood in the powerful man's richly appointed office.

The mobster slowly swirled the brandy in its snifter before taking a drink. His patience with his hired help was wearing thin. He set the crystal vessel down on his large mahogany desk before he spoke, "I've been listening to the radio and TV. No mention of a killing. None. Che Fong is an important man. If he had been hit, I'd know about it!" His voice was low and laced with carefully controlled anger.

"What's your beef with this Fong guy anyway?" Lenny asked, genuinely curious. "It's got to be more than just the work he does for Five-O."

"That's none of your concern!" Tony snapped sharply.

"Maybe he's not as important as you seem to think," Nick spat out defiantly, his temper flaring. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the fury he saw in Kahuku's eyes made him wish he could call back the comment.

"It's late, Mr. Kahuku," Lenny cut in calmly, trying to bail out his partner and physically pulling him out of reach of the furious mob boss. "I'm sure it will hit the news by tomorrow morning, you'll see."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Kahuku is pupule, just pupule!" Nick shouted angrily, throwing his jacket at the thread bare sofa in the living room of his small bungalow. He barely missed the large ashtray filled with stale cigarette butts on the coffee table. "Just don't make sense to off some cop scientist! Anyway, I know that I got him. 'Mr. Wizard' is dead. All pau!"

"Kahuku sure is acting weird about this," Lenny agreed as he plopped down into a sagging recliner. "It's got to be more than just this Fong dude's work interfering with business. Notice how old Tony was staring at that photo in the paper? Sure seems like he's obsessed about the guy. Wonder what that article was about anyway."

"Don't ask me, you know I don't read that rag," Nick grumbled.

"You don't read anything, bruddah," Lenny laughed. "Do you even know how to read?"

At that, Nick grabbed the closest object, a ratty sofa pillow and hurled it at Lenny, who quickly ducked.

"Aren't you even curious?" Lenny asked after dodging the soft projectile.

"No, I'm not," Nick shot back.

"Well, I am," Lenny retorted and headed for the stack of old papers by the fireplace to try to locate the article in question.

o-o-o

Doc Bergman emerged from the autopsy room carrying a large envelope of x-ray films which he in turn dropped onto his desk. He thanked his assistant for staying late then sent the young man home. Then Bergman turned toward the two remaining men who were anxiously waiting for the physician to deliver his diagnosis.

"Well?" McGarrett asked impatiently, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.

"What's the verdict, Doc?" Che echoed the question from his position seated on the old couch opposite from the coroner's desk. Now wearing one of Doc's green scrub shirts with his suit pants, the scientist held an ice bag to the back of his head with his left hand while he tried to keep his right arm as still as possible. His blood stained suit jacket and dress shirt lay on the coffee table in a casual heap, along with his tie.

Bergman smiled at his newly acquired patient. "There's no apparent fracture, Che. You may have a slight concussion, but nothing more serious than that."

"Thank God," Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

"You took my line," Che said, casting a glance at the lead detective.

"You're going to be sore for a while; I want you to get some rest," Bergman cautioned. The ME chose not to express out loud his opinion that Che probably had more sense about such things than certain Five-O detectives!

"Sure, Doc," the scientist promised, just as Duke and Chin returned from the parking lot with their findings. The Oriental detective was in his shirt sleeves and had loosened his tie. He had been on his way home for the day when the call had come through about the shooting.

"What have you got?" Steve asked, directing his attention toward the officers.

"Not much, I'm afraid," Duke responded. "There were some skid marks on the road that could have come from the car Doc saw." The uniformed officer presented a plastic evidence bag to McGarrett. "Found this on the side of the road close to the skid…it looks fairly fresh; could belong to the gunman."

Steve took the bag and skeptically studied the half smoked cigarette butt it contained then passed the bag to forensic scientist. "Che?"

"I might be able to get a partial print, Steve."

Chin handed over a damp and dirty file folder. "Probably hit a puddle when Che fell," he surmised.

"That's for Doc," the scientist responded, nodding toward Bergman. The Chinese detective passed the folder to the coroner.

Then Chin pulled a set of keys from his pocket, one clearly belonging to a VW. "These must be yours, Che," he said, passing them to their grateful owner.

"Anything on that partial plate?" Steve asked.

"Motor Vehicles is working on a list; should have it by morning. I'll run it through the iron brain; see if it matches anyone with a record." Chin's face then brightened as he reached once more into his pocket and handed his boss a folded handkerchief. "It took some doing, but we found the slug, Steve."

The tall detective unfolded the handkerchief and displayed to the group the small bit of metal in the center of his open palm. "Looks like a .38," he observed.

Seeing the object that not long ago had bitten into his shoulder causing such severe pain, Che grew angry. He couldn't count the number of slugs he had examined in his career with the crime lab, but this one was different. This one was very personal. He shook his head. "I can't believe this happened right here in broad daylight!" the scientist complained. "It's not like this is Hotel Street. I guess that no place is safe anymore. I could have been killed!"

Che's anger drew remarks of empathy and solidarity from the other men. McGarrett, however, stroked his chin and seemed to be deep in thought. The conversation he had had with his second earlier that afternoon resurfaced in his mind:

"_According to Doc, that car cut out of here pretty quick, Steve. And Doc said that Che was unconscious. It's possible that Kahuku's boys think they finished the job."_

"_You could be right, Danno. And that might buy us some time. But Kahuku is smart; even if his boys report that they've finished the job, old Tony will want proof."_

Suddenly, McGarrett turned toward the head of the crime lab with a look of determination.

"Che, would you say that you're critical of the lack of public safety in this neighborhood?" Steve asked, emphasizing the word 'critical'. The sly grin on his face that meant he had something up his sleeve.

"Yeah, Steve, I'd say so," Che replied, wondering where this was headed.

"Doc, may I use your phone?" Steve asked. At the coroner's nod, he walked over to the desk, picked up the receiver and dialed the number for the _Honolulu Advertiser_. The call was answered on the first ring.

"_Eddie Sherman, what's your problem?"_

"Eddie, it's McGarrrett."

"_Steve! What can I do for you, or should I be afraid to ask?"_

The head of Five-O let out a slight chuckle before responding, "Just calling in that favor you owe me. I'd like for you to print something in tomorrow's paper."

Steve proceeded to explain the situation to the reporter then dictated the exact wording he wanted for the headline:

**HEAD OF CRIME LAB CRITICAL AFTER SHOOTING, NOW IN MORGUE**

Eyebrows rose all around the room.

"Thanks, Eddie, that'll help a lot," Steve said as he ended the call.

"_Anytime, Steve. But maybe I should call my lawyer now, just in case. Bye."_

Chin and Duke exchanged incredulous glances as McGarrett hung up the phone. Che was speechless. "Think it'll work, Steve?" Duke finally asked.

"I hope so, Duke. If Kahuku and his boys think they were successful with the hit, at least temporarily, it should buy us enough time to put an end to this while we keep Che and his wife safe."

Bergman just shook his head in disbelief at McGarrett's audacity. _No wonder Manicote is losing his hair_, the coroner thought.

o-o-o

_**A.N.**__ - Steve McGarrett has planted purposely deceptive stories in the Honolulu Advertiser on more than one occasion. He did this in "Deathwatch" in season one and again in "A Killer Grows Wings" and "Love Thy Neighbor, Take His Wife" in season eight. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Tony Kahulu downed the last of his third brandy in one angry gulp then slammed the snifter down onto his desk. Now alone in his study, he stared at the newspaper in front of him, folded to the page bearing the photo of the man in the white lab coat. The room had grown darker with the setting sun. The only perceptible sound came from the rolling surf breaking on the shore outside the open patio, gently lapping at the white sand at regular intervals. With a shaking hand, the mobster grabbed a red felt tipped pen from his desk set and violently scribbled across the newsprint. "Che Fong!" Kahulu viciously spat out. "Are you really dead? It's high time that you paid for what you did…_paid_ with your life!"

o-o-o

By the time Danny had returned to the morgue with Mrs. Fong, Steve had already sent Duke and Chin home for the evening and had made arrangements with Chief Dann to post round the clock security for safe house number four.

The curly haired detective helped his anxious passenger out of the car and escorted her into the building, keeping a watchful eye for the short time they were outside in the open. Dan held the door open for the older woman and they both walked inside. At the sight of the recent arrivals, the forensic scientist, who was seated on the couch, broke into a warm smile; his wife's mere presence made him forget the lingering pain in his shoulder and head.

"Oh, Che!" Ling Li exclaimed when she laid eyes on her husband. She then hurried to his side.

"I'm okay, dear," Che calmly soothed, as he relished her careful embrace. Ling Li sat down next to Che, who took his wife's hand in his. "I'm glad you're here," he said softly after a brief kiss.

Steve also felt a measure of relief. The day could have ended so tragically and it was indeed fortunate that Che was still among the living. But it was time to put his plan into action and McGarrett wanted the couple secured in the safe house as soon as possible. "Doc, are you ready to release your patient?" the head of Five-O asked the coroner.

"Sure, Steve," Bergman replied. Then to Che in a serious but compassionate tone, "I want you to take it easy for a couple of days. Any dizziness, nausea or blurred vision, call me right away, okay?"

"I will," the forensic scientist promised. "And thanks, Doc."

o-o-o

Safe house number four was a neat and efficient one story beach cottage on the windward side of the island. Under the cover of darkness, Steve ushered Che and Ling Li into the small structure while Dan followed close behind with their overnight bag and picnic basket. A couple of casually dressed men lurking nearby nodded at the head of Five-O as he passed. Steve returned the acknowledgment with his own nod, pleased that the plain clothes HPD officers were already on the job, in accordance with his plan.

Once inside, Steve gave the couple a quick tour of the house. "You'll find coffee and other basics in the kitchen. We'll see that you have anything else that you need tomorrow. Che?"

"Yes?"

"Give Danno a list of what you will need from the lab to pull those fingerprints," Steve said, producing the plastic evidence bag from his inside breast pocket and placing it on the kitchen counter in front of the scientist.

Danny pulled out his notebook and Che dictated a short list of lab supplies, which the young detective quickly jotted down, agreeing to deliver the items the next day.

"How long will we have to stay here, Steve?" Ling Li asked.

"Not long, I hope," the dark haired detective replied, placing a reassuring hand on the small woman's shoulder. "But this is the safest place for you and Che until we can put whoever did this behind bars."

After rechecking the locks on the windows and doors, the Five-O men bid the Fongs goodnight and left for the evening, promising to keep in touch. Once they were alone, Che eased himself into a wicker chair beside the sliding doors that opened to a patio overlooking the beach. After everything that had happened, his energy was almost at an end. But he perked up at his wife's next question.

"You hungry, Che?"

"I sure am, and whatever you brought in that basket smells great!" Che nodded toward the picnic basket on the counter. "Pork fried rice?"

"Your favorite," Ling Li answered, pleased by the compliment to her cooking.

o-o-o

"Found it!" Lenny announced after littering the stained shag carpet in front of the fireplace with half the pile of old newspapers. He folded the paper in his hand to reveal the portrait of Che Fong, took a seat in the recliner and quickly read through the article.

Nick continued to pretend not to care, but couldn't help stealing a glance or two at his partner's changing expression. His curiosity finally got the better of him. "Well? What gives?"

"Thought you weren't interested," Lenny commented with a smirk on his face.

"Come on, man, what's it say?" Nick was clearly irritated.

"Something about a controversial rape case; senator's daughter," Lenny summarized. "An innocent man was almost convicted, but 'Mr. Wizard' here found some new way to analyze the evidence and proved who the real rapist was. Don't recognize any of the names. What the hell you think this has to do with Tony?"

"Beat's me, bruddah." Nick shrugged his shoulders as he lit up a cigarette. "Kahuku is one mean son of a gun, but I don't see how he'd be connected with a rape. It's gotta be something else."

o-o-o

A crescent moon had risen over the Pacific and the trade winds rustled the palm trees on the grounds of the small safe house. As the hour approached midnight, the second shift of HPD officers arrived to relieve the four men coming off guard duty. The exchange took place efficiently and quietly.

Inside the cottage, Che Fong lay in bed still awake, grateful to be alive after the events of the day. He pulled the blue cotton blanket up from the foot of the bed so that it covered both himself and his wife in its warmth. Ling Li snuggled close to her husband's left side and the couple shared a lingering kiss. "Thank God you're okay, my love," Ling Li whispered for the umpteenth time.

Che smiled in the darkness. Feeling blessed, he decided to put a positive spin on the situation. "Happy spontaneous vacation, my darling," he murmured, carefully draping his right arm around his wife's body and pulling her close. The movement tugged too hard at the fresh stitches in his shoulder and he hissed at the sudden sharp pain.

"Che?"

"Shhh…worth it," he soothed, holding her closer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The Fongs were awake early. The first order of business was to call their children, explain what had happened, instruct them to ignore any shocking headlines they might see in the_ Advertiser _and then basically, swear them to secrecy. Steve had reluctantly granted the couple permission to do this. While he didn't want any leaks in the operation, he also didn't want to cause any needless pain to Che's family. First, they called their daughter Lindsey, who was working on an internship in Hilo. Their son Harry, an architect, now lived in San Francisco and while the chances were remote that he would see the headline, Ling Li felt much better after they had spoken to him, too.

Danny was also up earlier than usual and arrived at the safe house with the requested box of equipment from the crime lab along with a bag of groceries. Before he knocked at the door, he checked in with all four HPD officers on guard duty; fortunately, there had been no disturbances all evening.

"Good morning, Dan," a casually dressed Che cheerfully greeted the detective at the door.

"You're looking better this morning," Danny observed as Che directed him to set the box on the dining room table while he passed the grocery bag to his wife.

"Quiet night; slept like a baby," Che explained. "Of course that might have had something to do with the good doctor's pain killers."

"Understood," the young detective commented, recalling his own experiences with Bergman's prescriptions.

"Danny, you want some coffee?" Ling Li called out from the kitchen.

"Sure, thank you," Dan responded, while he watched Che unpack the contents of the box. "Che, how long do you think it will take to get those prints? I'd like to have something for Steve at the morning staff meeting if it's possible."

"If there's a print on this cigarette, I'll have it before you finish your coffee," Che replied with his usual confidence.

Ling Li delivered two steaming mugs of coffee to the men then returned to the kitchen to finish preparing breakfast. Danny sat at the table and sipped his coffee while he watched the forensic scientist at work. Che spread out an old newspaper to protect the table then measured out some silver nitrate from the stock jar, placed the crystals in a beaker and mixed in some distilled water. Then, he filled a small spray bottle with the mixture. Carefully, he lifted the cigarette with a pair of tweezers and spritzed it with the solution.

Danny was confused but curious about the procedure and just had to ask. "Che, I know that you know what you're doing, but it looks like you're trying to remove the prints. What gives?"

Unruffled by the detective's concerns, Che patiently explained what he was doing. "If there's a print on this cigarette, it will contain traces of sodium chloride from perspiration, which will react with the silver nitrate to form silver chloride."

Danny looked closer. "I don't see anything."

Che scanned the room until he spotted a small lamp on a table next to the sofa. "Dan, will you get me that lamp?" he asked, nodding toward the fixture. "Pull off the shade and we'll plug it in here close to the table." Danny brought the lamp then he continued to watch while the scientist held the cigarette close to the brightness of the bare light bulb. Almost immediately, a couple of black fingerprints appeared on the butt. The young detective broke into a grin.

"Silver chloride turns black when exposed to light," Che continued as he studied the newly visible marks. "Looks like a good thumbprint here, maybe a partial index finger."

Danny replaced the shade on the lamp and returned it to its spot in the living room. While the detective finished his coffee, the forensic scientist carefully cut the cigarette paper lengthwise, without disturbing the prints. Then he removed the tobacco and filter, then spread the paper flat and taped it to a stiff card. He recorded the date, time, a few notes and his initials on the card, and then placed it in an acetate sleeve for protection then dropped it into a file folder.

"Tell Steve that's the best I can do," Che said as he handed the folder to Dan.

"That's good enough, Che, thanks."

o-o-o

_Thump! _

Lenny looked up from his seat on the couch when he heard the morning paper hit the front door.

"There it is!" Nick said excitedly as if he were waiting for Santa Claus. The man had been a bundle of nerves since he had awakened that morning. He banged down his coffee cup on the table, sloshing out half its contents and headed for the door, while Lenny watched with mild amusement. In record time, Nick retrieved the _Advertiser_, yanked off the rubber band, which flew across the room, and spread out the front page on the coffee table. There on the lower half of the page was a bulleted list of headlines under the heading "The News in Brief". Close to the top of the list was the banner they had hoped to see:

******HEAD OF CRIME LAB CRITICAL AFTER SHOOTING, NOW IN MORGUE**

"Looks like you can relax now, Nick," Lenny said. "Old Tony has his proof."

"Told ya I got him, didn't I?" Nick bragged. "Maybe now we can collect our payment."

"Take a breath, will ya? Kahuku probably isn't even out of bed yet," Lenny replied.

"I got plans for that dough, man, and I want it now!"

"Look, bruddah, you aren't exactly on Tony's 'A' list right now after your attitude last night. I'll pick up the bread by myself…safer that way."

"Alright. I gotta walk to the store this morning anyway, I'm outta smokes."

o-o-o

Danny sprinted up the Palace steps and walked purposefully into Five-O's outer office. Jenny Sherman, the team's dependable secretary, smiled at the young detective and nodded her head toward the boss's private office. "They've already started, Danny. Better go on in."

"Thanks, Jenny," he replied, returning the smile as he hurried past her desk carrying Che's file folder.

Steve was seated behind his large polished wooden desk; Chin Ho and Ben Kokua occupied two of the high backed white leather chairs in front of the desk. The head of Five-O looked up and stopped in mid-sentence when his second-in-command entered the office.

"Good morning, Danno. What have you got?"

Dan handed the folder to his boss then settled into a vacant chair and unbuttoned his olive suit jacket. "Che pulled some prints from that cigarette; a thumb and what he thinks is a partial index," he explained.

Steve opened the folder and glanced at the prints.

"How's he feeling this morning?" Steve asked when he finished reading Che's neatly recorded notes.

"Better."

Dan's answer was brief, but it served to put his boss at ease. The tall detective turned his attention back to the case, and he eyed his two other detectives.

"Chin, how'd Duke do with Motor Vehicles?"

The portly Oriental detective opened his own folder and scanned page inside. "With just a partial plate, make and color, they narrowed it down to thirteen possibles. I ran them through the computer at HPD; didn't help. No one on the list has a record. It'll take some time to check out each address in person. They're all over the island!"

"Yeah," McGarrett agreed, none too happy about the leg work that the task would require. He rose from his chair and leaned on his desk top, still staring at the cigarette paper with the black fingerprints while mentally processing the small amount of information they had. After a few seconds, he looked up at his men. "Maybe we can still narrow it down. Do you have prints on all thirteen car owners?"

"Sure, Steve, Duke got the complete records," the elder detective replied.

"Chin, you and Ben set up the projector," McGarrett ordered, holding Che's card up in front of the team. "We're going see if we have a match for these prints."

o-o-o

Another twenty-five minutes slipped by while the Five-O men compared the fingerprints on each DMV record to those on the cigarette paper, the enlarged images projected side by side on the screen in Steve's darkened office. But it was to no avail.

"It was a good idea, Steve," Danny said, trying to ease his boss's disappointment as he reopened the venetian blinds.

McGarrett's frustration caused his temper to flare and he slammed the empty file folder down on his desk. "But we still have nothing to go on!" he barked a little too loudly.

Chin and Ben exchanged glances, but they were well used to such outbursts from their boss and knew that it wasn't directed at them.

"Ideas, gentlemen?" Steve asked in a more civil tone.

"How about the direct approach, Steve," Ben suggested. "You could go pay old Tony a visit; find out what's bugging him, shake him up a little."

McGarrett considered this, but nixed the idea. "No, Ben, I'm hoping that after this morning's paper, Tony thinks that the hit was successful, and I don't want to tip him off otherwise. I'd rather work with the evidence and nail Tony's boys first, then use them to take down Kahuku once and for all."

Danny didn't want Che's work to go to waste. "Steve, how about if we get the DMV records on Che's print? Maybe Doc misread that plate or got the color wrong. It's worth a try."

Steve's eyebrows arched at the suggestion. It could be grasping at straws, but it seemed reasonable and it wouldn't take long to get one more record. "Go with it, Danno," he said. "And run it through HPD's records while you're at it."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Tony Kahuku's face reddened with a slow burn as he read the morning's headline for the tenth time. He had leafed through every single page of the _Advertiser_ at least twice seeking further information, but none was to be found: no continuation of the story, nothing under 'death notices', no obituary. Nothing on TV. Nothing on the radio. _It's a trick, I know it is. McGarrett is behind this! If Fong were dead, it would say so!_

The mobster's livid musings were interrupted when Lenny knocked on the open door. "Mr. Kahuku, sir, did you see this morning's paper? I'm here for our payment. The job is done."

"Is it?" Tony barked. Then he lowered his voice, but the simmering anger still evident in his tone made Lenny nervous. "I don't think so. Read between the lines. It doesn't say anywhere that Fong is dead!"

"But…"

"No! No money until there's proof that the job is done," Kahuku growled. "Now leave! Don't come back until Fong is dead and it's all over the news!"

Lenny hurried from the room, wiping the sweat from his forehead on his sleeve. Once outside, he got back into his brown sedan and rested his head against the steering wheel until he calmed down. _What now? _

o-o-o

"Williams to Central, patch me through to McGarrett," Dan repeated into the mic of his car radio, unable to suppress the hint of victory from his voice. He leaned against the driver's side of his sleek Ford sedan parked outside of HPD headquarters on South Beretania Street; the curled cord of the radio was stretched out the open car door.

"_McGarrett. What is it, Danno?"_ his boss's voice crackled through the speaker.

"Got a match on that print at HPD, Steve. Belongs to a Nick Manolo; he's had a string of arrests for petty theft and gambling," Dan reported, reading from his notebook.

"_What about the brown Ford?"_ the head of Five-O asked.

"Not his; he doesn't drive. But get this: his last known address matches one of the addresses on Chin's list – 134 Palm Court, Pearl City."

"_That's the connection!"_ McGarrett's excitement was transmitted through the small radio and Danny could easily picture the smile on his boss's face_. "Good work, Danno. Come on in; we'll get a warrant and pay Nick Manolo a visit." _

o-o-o

"Manicote," the district attorney tersely answered the phone on his desk. John Manicote's small, orderly government office was lined with shelves filled with law books; framed diplomas and a few Hawaiian landscapes adorned the wood paneled walls. He leaned forward in his chair, anticipating another task soon to be added to his already busy day.

_"McGarrett,"_ Steve identified himself. _"Good morning, John. I need a search warrant for the home of Nick Manolo, 134 Palm Court, Pearl City. We're looking for the gun involved in yesterday's shooting."_

Manicote's professional tone abruptly changed; his next words were solemn and full of compassion. "Steve, I saw the paper this morning. I'm so sorry about Che. He was a good man."

_"John…"_ The head of Five-O paused, trying to decide how much to reveal. _"John, Che survived the shooting; he's okay, but we're keeping it under wraps until we can straighten this out. It's for his own protection. I assume I can count on your discretion…"_

"Again?" the lawyer interrupted, clearly annoyed and struggling to remain civil. "Steve, did you see the paper this morning? Of course you did! You know that you're treading on very thin ice, legally speaking." Manicote opened his desk drawer and felt around for his bottle of aspirin.

_"I know. Just for a few days, John. Now how about that warrant?"_

"It'll be ready in fifteen minutes, but I'm not happy about this. One of these days you're going to go too far and I won't be able to bail you out!"

_"Thanks, John, I'll send Chin over to pick it up,"_ Steve replied calmly, ignoring Manicote's rant. But before McGarrett could even finish his last sentence, the district attorney had already hung up the phone.

o-o-o

Warrant in hand, McGarrett arrived at 134 Palm Court along with Williams and Kokua. The three men exited the Mercury then Steve directed Dan and Ben to cover the back while he approached the front door and knocked, his revolver drawn just in case.

"McGarrett, Five-O! Open up!"

After receiving no response, Steve twisted the doorknob and was surprised to find the house was unlocked. Cautiously, he entered the small living room and did a quick sweep of the interior. The place reeked of stale cigarette smoke; the dark haired detective grimaced at the offending stench. Once he found the house to be empty, he re-holstered his gun and signaled through a window for his two officers to join him inside.

"Okay, gentlemen, let's find that .38," the lead detective ordered.

The Five-O men began their systematic search of the bungalow; Steve started with the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen, while Danny took the two bedrooms and bathroom and Ben surveyed the living room.

The first thing the tall Samoan officer noticed was the large ash tray on the coffee table, which was filled to capacity with ash and butts. _Probably covered with the same prints we saw this morning, _he surmised. Inspecting the area around the fireplace, Ben spotted a familiar face looking back at him from the top of a pile of newspapers.

"Steve!" Kokua called out, drawing McGarrett and Williams back into the living room. "Look at this." He held out the folded _Advertiser_, displaying the article that praised the work of the forensic scientist pictured on the page.

McGarrett took the paper and scanned the press item. "This means we're in the right place," Steve said confidently.

"That was published a couple of weeks ago," Danny commented. "I don't see how Kahuku would be connected with a rape case. I don't remember his name coming up during the trial."

"It didn't," Ben confirmed. "But something else is bothering me."

"What, Ben?" Steve asked bluntly.

"Why would someone as powerful as Kahuku hire a two bit crook for a hit? He can certainly afford professional talent."

"Good question," the lead detective responded. "And all we have are questions. I want answers, gentlemen!"

The men resumed their search. Dan returned to the second bedroom and rifled through the dresser drawers, but came up with nothing. The other two detectives' efforts were also fruitless. Finally, the three reconvened in the living room.

"Okay, it's not here," McGarrett stated with controlled frustration. "Ben, call Chin; I want the two of you to watch the house. When Manolo shows up, I want him brought in for questioning."

"Done," Ben responded then exited the house and sprinted back to the Mercury to radio the Palace.

Left alone in the living room with his second-in-command, Steve walked over to the fireplace and once again picked up the newspaper bearing Che's photo and skimmed through the text.

"Steve?" Danny interrupted the quiet, wondering what was going through his boss's mind.

"Danno, I want you to go back through the records of this rape trial," McGarrett said, tapping his index finger on the folded page. "See if you can find a connection to Kahuku. We've got to be missing something, so dig deep."

o-o-o

The breakfast dishes had been washed and were now drying in the rack on the counter. The small kitchen was again tidy and Ling Li looked longingly out the sliding glass door to the beckoning white sand and sparkling blue ocean. The fear for her husband's life and the drama of being whisked away to the safe house were gradually being replaced by boredom and an uncomfortable feeling of confinement. _Some vacation! _she thought as she dried her hands with a dishtowel.

A soft snore drew her attention to the couch where Che was stretched out, napping after his breakfast. Ling Li's mood changed in an instant and she lifted up a prayer of thanks that the love of her life was alive and safe. _Sharing a cottage by the sea with Che is vacation enough, even if I can't go outside. _Ling Li realized how lucky she was and smiled at the sight of her husband's sleeping form.

The woman's musings were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone on the kitchen wall. She dropped the dishtowel onto the counter and quickly picked up the receiver before it could ring a second time. The disturbance caused Che to mumble and shift his position on the couch, but as far as his wife could tell, he was still soundly asleep.

"Hello?" Mrs. Fong answered in a hushed voice.

"_Good morning, Ling Li, it's Dr. Bergman. I'm just calling to check on Che. How's he feeling this morning?"_

"He's doing fine, doctor. I'd let you speak to him, but he's sleeping right now."

"_Oh? How long has he been asleep?" _

Ling Li heard the sudden concern in Bergman's voice and it worried her. "About twenty minutes. We were up early; Danny came by this morning and they did some fingerprint work before breakfast. Is something wrong?"

"_No, no, everything is fine; glad to hear that he's getting his rest. I'll drop by this afternoon to check on him."_

"Oh, thank you, doctor. We'll see you later. Goodbye."

Ling Li hung up the phone then opened the sliding glass door, allowing the fresh salty breeze to cool the inside of the house. If she couldn't go outside, a little fresh air didn't seem like too much to ask for. After all, she was certain that nothing out of the ordinary was going to happen.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

As Lenny turned his brown Ford sedan onto Palm Court, his mind was racing. Nick wasn't going to be happy that he had returned without the money. Lenny wasn't all too happy about that either. _Kahuku could be right; Fong might still be alive. If that's true, we're back to square one. _

While he was still five houses away from his bungalow, Lenny was startled to see Nick being escorted from the house by two men in business suits: one stocky fellow who looked Chinese and a tall broad shouldered Samoan man. He slowed down and parked the car on the side of the street, far enough away so that he wouldn't be noticed, and watched. When the pair got Nick to their car, one of the men opened the rear door for Nick to climb in. _Damn! They must be Five-O! And leave it to Nick…I'll bet he's gonna lose his cool and spill his guts…he's gonna blow it for both of us!_

Lenny waited until the car bearing his partner departed. He knew that he was on his own now and he had to think fast. _If Fong is still alive, I'll just have to finish the job myself. On the bright side, I won't have to split the bread with anyone, it'll all be mine!_

o-o-o

Danny shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden chair in the small reading room inside the courthouse. He had spent the last thirty minutes pouring over the transcripts of the trial that, thanks to Che's forensic work, had resulted in a prison sentence for Matthew Blackwell for the crime of rape. Danny had copied into his notebook every name mentioned in the court record. But even after repeatedly reading through the names on his list, none rang any bells other than from their involvement in the rape case; none had any connection to Tony Kahuku as far as Williams knew. Frustrated by what seemed like a wild goose chase, he ran a hand through his curls then drummed his pen on the table, contemplating what to do next. _Dig deep! _Steve's command echoed in his ears. Dan hated to return to the Palace empty handed.

With a defeated sigh, Williams rose from his seat and gathered the paperwork to return to the court clerk. On his way to the clerk's office, he passed by the courtroom where the trial in question had taken place. The doors opened and the occupants of the courtroom filed out. As Danny stepped aside to let them pass, he had an idea. After the small crowd had dispersed, the detective entered the empty courtroom and sat down in the same seat he had occupied weeks ago when Blackwell's trial was in session. Dan unbuttoned his olive suit jacket and took a deep breath, clearing his mind. Then he closed his eyes and mentally recreated the proceedings. As the events played out in his mind, he saw Che on the stand, calmly reporting his findings that effectively proved Blackwell's guilt. Then Dan recalled a woman who had been seated close to the defendant. How could he not have noticed her? The poor woman was quite emotional, in tears throughout most of the trial and had to excuse herself several times to leave the courtroom to regain her composure, or so Danny had assumed. The woman looked to be in her late forties, probably of Hawaiian descent; she was neatly dressed but her clothing did not reflect a lot of wealth. From her age and behavior, Dan surmised that she could very well have been Blackwell's mother. Dan opened his eyes, pulled out his notebook and again scanned the list of names, stopping when he read 'Judith Ann Blackwell, mother of Matthew'. _So what? Still no connection to Kahuku! _he thought, another dead end wearing away his patience. He glanced at his watch and frowned. _I've got to get back._

Williams rose, re-buttoned his jacket and picked up the documents he needed to return to the clerk. On his way out the door, he passed a pay phone on the wall opposite the courtroom. Dan stopped and doubled back, deciding to take advantage of the convenience and call in. He lifted the receiver, inserted a dime into the coin slot and dialed his boss's number. After a single ring, he heard the familiar blunt greeting.

"_McGarrett."_

"Hi Steve, Danny," he began in a tone that relayed a measure of his frustration.

"_Any luck at the courthouse, Danno?" _

"No. I've been over the transcripts backwards and forwards, and nothing…a big fat zero!"

"_Well, it was worth a try." _

Danny could hear the understanding and support in Steve's voice and his own mood lightened as a result. He also detected a certain edge in his boss's tone; that usually meant there had been some progress in the case.

"_Come on in, Danno; Chin and Ben have picked up Nick Manolo and I want you here when they get back. He was packing a .38; might be our first solid lead. Depending on what we can get out of Manolo, we may have to pick up his housemate, too."_

"Will do, Steve. Bye."

Danny replaced the receiver but before his hand lost contact with the instrument, the image of Mrs. Blackwell getting up and leaving the courtroom surfaced again in his mind. He stared at the pay phone for a few more seconds then his tense expression suddenly transformed to a look of determination. _Maybe this isn't a dead end after all! _Opening the cover of the phone directory that was chained to the wall, the detective located the number for the phone company, inserted another dime and dialed.

"This is Detective Dan Williams, Hawaii Five-O. I need a list of all calls made from…," he glanced at the center of the phone dial and read off the number, "538-5151 on April 25 through April 30 of this year. I need names, numbers, dates and times. Please Telex the list to Five-O headquarters as soon as possible. Thanks."

Danny replaced the receiver and returned the trial transcripts then left the courthouse and headed back to the Palace, hoping that his last ditch effort would bear some fruit.

o-o-o

Lenny could tell that his home had been searched. While he was in the kitchen making a fast peanut butter sandwich, he noticed that many items were slightly out of place and contents of drawers had been rearranged. It left the man with an uncomfortable feeling of being violated. _Damn cops! _Lenny returned to the living room, sat down on the worn couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. _Think…I gotta think! _ _Okay, McGarrett knows where I live; won't take him long to find out what I drive…gotta dump the car. _ He took a bite of his sandwich and chased it with a swig of milk directly from the carton, after which he wiped his mouth on his unbuttoned sleeve. _Then, I need to find out if 'Mr. Wizard' is still alive. If he's dead, it shouldn't be too hard to get proof. _Lenny continued to stare into space, trying to come up with a plan. After he finished his sandwich, he stretched his legs, accidentally bumping into the overflowing ashtray on the coffee table and spilling some of its contents on the morning paper.

"Geez, Nick, you and those cigarettes!"he yelled out to his absent partner. _Someday those things are gonna kill you! _he thought as he leaned forward to sweep the butts back into the ashtray. As he cleared the ashes from the newsprint, his eyes were again drawn to the headline on the front page:

**HEAD OF CRIME LAB CRITICAL AFTER SHOOTING, NOW IN MORGUE**

_That's it! The morgue! At least it's a place to start. _

Lenny had a certain talent for blending in and going unnoticed and it was time to put that talent to work. He got up and put the milk back in the refrigerator then grabbed his car keys and left the house.

o-o-o

Lenny abandoned his brown Ford sedan in a covered parking garage that was within walking distance of an inexpensive rental agency. With that detail out of the way, he arrived at the county morgue just before noon in his newly rented blue van and parked. Lenny would have to enter the building inconspicuously, and he had no idea how many people worked there or how difficult it would be to sneak in. Allowing himself more time to think, he approached the small brick building then leaned against a nearby tree with his arms folded, studying the entryway. Before long, the front door opened and two men walked out. One man wore a suit and tie, had thick wavy graying hair and carried a small black bag. The other man was much younger, tall and slim with reddish hair and freckles, and was dressed in khakis, a short sleeved oxford shirt and tie. Lenny was just able to catch their conversation as the men passed by.

"…enjoy your lunch. I'll be late getting back. I'm going to go check on Che."

"Okay, Doc, don't worry, I can handle things here while you're gone. Give my best to Mr. Fong!"

"I will, Jeff, thanks."

_So Fong is alive! And now I'm gonna get a guided tour that ends right on his doorstep! _ _What a lucky break! _Lenny made his way back to the blue van, got in and started the engine, all the while keeping his eyes on the older man as he walked to the parking lot and got into his own car. The car backed out of the parking lot and Lenny followed at a discreet distance.


End file.
